Shakespeare's Mistake
by Achicagoil
Summary: When Dumbledore as the Head o' Houses rewrite a variation of a Shakespearian play, it's up to the 7th years to meddle with it Chapter 3 is UP!
1. Damn Wrong Line, Wrong Play

Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter OR Romeo and Juliet, in which, SPOOF!!! Bwahahaha...  
~Achi-chan  
  
Summary: In order to begin bonding sessions with the seventh years of the four houses, Dumbledore   
assigned the seventh years to perform a variation of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," and when   
performed the 'authors' find the students did a bit of devious planning and rewriting of their own.   
  
Shakespeare's Mistake  
rated: PG-13  
PART ONE: Damn... Wrong Line, Wrong Play  
  
And Explanations to Leave Us Up-To-Date, aka PROLOGUE  
  
Hermione's eyes were wide. To say they had become buggy would have fit as well, as for the first   
time in her life, she sputtered uncontrollably. "You decided to HELP inter-house relationships, to   
make us not only write, but perform a variation of Shakespeare's work? That's... that's bloody   
insane!" she sputtered. McGonagall grinned evilly.  
"We, the professors, have already written a variation of the performance, thanks to the wonderful  
creative writing your Heads of Houses have done for you. You must only simply perform the play in   
front of the younger years," McGonagall replied.  
"And are you to make us audition for parts as well," the skeptical (and sarcastic) voice of   
Draco Malfoy cut through the rowdy crowd of Hogwarts seventh years. McGonagall raised an eyebrow.  
"Your Head of Houses have helped me to find the matches for the parts for the major roles, or   
most of them, and the minor ones have yet to be determined," was the smart reply, as the crowd   
pushed forward to read the names upon the paper, posted in the Great Hall.   
Hermione groaned, as she read them aloud to the people around her. "'Romeo's' not been chosen   
yet. Harry's 'Tybalt'. Ron's 'Paris'. I'm..." she gulped, "'Juliet.' 'Mercrutio's' Seamus.   
'Benvolio's'... Justin what'shislastnamefromHufflepuff?" Hermione almost began to laugh, but   
continued. "The nurse is Pansy. The monk is Goyle. None of the other parts are of big significance   
to us," was the finished reply.   
Draco snorted. "Now all they do is find somebody willing to 'kill' Potter for Romeo. Make it   
angsty. Too bad you don't have the part, Weasley. Merlin only knows it'd be the only way Granger'd   
kiss you on her own," he laughed.  
"And thank you for volunteering for the part of 'Romeo', Draco," Madame Hooch laughed merrily,   
weaving her way through the students to write Draco's name under the part of 'Romeo.' Hermione and   
Draco locked eyes for several long moments in horror.   
"Look at where your big mouth got us, Ferret," Hermione growled, not bothering to keep her voice   
low.   
"Excuse me for stating the truth, Mudblood," Malfoy spat back. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"I'm quite sorry, Flying-Rat, but 'Mudblood' really has no effect on me anymore. You see, my   
parents ARE muggle. Because of that, I grew up in the muggle ways. Your insult was new to me in my   
second year. I feel absolutely nothing towards it because I didn't grow up knowing it was an   
offensive term. Now 'pureblood,' as we all know... I can think of several synonyms at the moment,   
but 'inbreeding' seems to be the most clear at the moment," was Hermione's sharp reply.  
Draco looked as if he were to reach for his wand and hex Hermione, but Harry and Ron, the   
Hogwarts steroid giants of their year (no, it wasn't true that they were on steroids, but the   
muscles spoke for themselves, didn't they), stepped in front of her. Draco sneered and made an   
inappropriate gesture in the general direction of the three before stalking off. He had an   
interesting letter to write to his father.  
  
  
  
AND SO, THE STUDENTS GET AHOLD OF THE SCRIPT  
Hermione slammed the script down on the coffee table, as the entire seventh year class of   
Hogwarts watched her in amazement. Draco leaned against a wall close to Hermione, having been   
co-president of the entire operation.   
"It has come to our attention that the teachers are purposely trying to embarrass us out of our   
arses," Hermione began, eyes scanning across the crowd.  
"Granger and I have been talking for a bit about this stupid play," Draco added, glaring at the   
script, than at Hermione. "We've been trying to come up with a solution to the embarrassment, that   
won't be spotted until too late, and we think we've found one, if you're all willing to cooperate   
and," he paused, "get along for the time being.  
Hermione nodded. "Usually, I wouldn't piss the teachers off. And this will be pissing the   
teachers off, especially Snape, who I know went back through the early script and added an   
unnecessary relationship to Tybalt and Paris when he found out Ron and Harry had been assigned   
those parts. But I have a reputation to withhold, and if defying all of Hogwarts the right to see   
me lip-locked with Ferret-Boy, than so be it," she said. Draco nodded in agreement.  
"I'm supposed to be a bad-ass guy. Becoming swoony and mushy and smooching on Granger won't   
help," he snorted.  
"Than what do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, a skeptical look on his face, arms folded.   
Hermione's face slowly turned into an evil grin, and she picked up her quill.  
"Ladies and gents of the seventh year," she stated, clearly, "the re-writing process begins."  
  
  
Scene 1, act one  
  
Harry fidgeted with his attire. "This isn't funny," he muttered, glaring at the hose that clad   
his legs. Ron plucked at his own nylo- hose.  
"How did they wear this back then and there? Merlin, I can see the outline of my-" Ron was   
saying, before he was rudely cut off.  
"Save it, Ron. We don't want to hear about it," Hermione muttered from behind the broom closet   
door. She hadn't come out since Lavendar and Parvati, the costume and make-up crew, had finished   
with her. For the past five minutes, she'd been ranting about how the two had gotten off easy, and   
that since she were Head Girl, she was entitled to privileges. Such as not being seen on stage in a   
corset and squashed her boobs.  
Harry, whose eyes had been covered due to Ron's comment, groped out for Ron's tunic, untucked   
it, and pulled it down as to cover his-  
"That's better. I wish you would keep your thoughts to yourself, Ron," Harry muttered, slowly   
uncovering his eyes.  
Snape sauntered backstage of the temporary auditorium that had been built on the beloved Great   
Hall. He stopped for several seconds in front of Harry and Ron, and continued off, doing his best   
not to laugh. It was rich, that is was, seeing the Golden Trio in hose and... dresses, for   
Hermione's case.   
Lavendar rushed by, pounding on the broom closet door. "HERMIONE! You can't stay in there all   
night!" she yelled through the door. Hermione snorted from within.  
"Says who?" she wanted to know.   
Draco, who had been walking by for the commotion, rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand,   
pointing it at the door and whispering "Alohomora!" With a flash, Hermione tumbled out of the broom   
closet as the door flew open, landing gracefully on her behind. Brown, poofy tresses flew everywhere  
as the dis-shelved Head Girl glared at the Head Boy, who, much to her amusement, wore silver,   
blue, and black in the form of a tunic, hose, and a ~blouse~. It was a frilly blouse, too. One her   
mother might have worn to mass on Sundays, or to an important business meeting.  
"Nice shirt, Malfoy. My mom might want to borrow it when you're done," Hermione snickered,   
standing up and brushing off her hands. Draco raised his eyebrows at the breast-flattening corset.   
"Perhaps you might want to borrow it, Granger. Seems you don't have much of a shirt yourself,"   
he sneered.   
The slight blush to Hermione's made-up cheeks was all the reply he needed as she stormed off.  
Hooch glared at the students behind stage. "Curtain call, now. All of you in the first scene.   
Get into places," she informed them, as the students sulked into position.  
  
AND SO WE BEGIN...  
Hannah Abbot and Dean Thomas shuffled out onto the stage, the crowd of students and teachers   
becoming quiet (or, for some cases, breaking into fits of giggles, as some people do when they see   
a guy wearing overly-tight pantyhose). "We're here to sing the prologue of the play," Hannah   
informed the crowd, beginning her ~slightly~ adjusted lines. Dean nodded.  
"Basically, we give away the plot of the whole story. Two people from two different worlds fall   
in love with each other. They get married and their parents don't know. Then, the bastard of the   
story decides to kill the chick's cousin and gets banished. So, she pretends to kill herself, and   
he finds out, comes over, kills himself, she wakes up, finds him dead, then REALLY kills herself,   
and the families make up, such on, and so forth," Dean informed them.  
Hannah nodded. "Yeah. Something about them being star-crossed lovers or something like that. But   
Dean got it pretty clear. Now, for many more men in nylons and many more girls with not enough of a   
shirt," she finished, bowing her way off the stage. From a peephole, Hermione could see the strange   
twinkle of Dumbledore's eyes grow. He wouldn't stop them now that they had begun. And the   
performance was going as planned, and the curtain was being raised.  
  
Several odd boys from the Ravenclaw and Slytherin houses loitered the almost realistic street   
on the stage, leaning against a wall. "Look. Here comes the jerk-offs from the Gryffindor house.   
Why don't we insult them?" one boy asked, raising his middle finger at the Gryffindor and   
Hufflepuff housees passing by.  
Seamus, our proud Mercrutio, raised his eyebrows. "Do you raise your middle finger, bastard?"   
he asked.  
The Slytherin with his finger raised shrugged. "Yep. Seems accurate."  
"Do you raise it at me?" Seamus wanted to know.  
"Nope. I just raise it in general," was his reply.  
"DIE, BASTARD!" he cried, pulling out his sword and running it through random people that got   
anywhere near him.  
  
Several minutes of Seamus's merciless killing, and the shouts of "YOU IDIOT! I'M ON YOUR SIDE!"   
from his fellow Gryffindor and Hufflepuff followers, shouts of horns and trumpets were heard, and   
onto the stage rode Goyle, on top of a chariot pulled by first-years.  
"To be, or not to be, that is the question!" he cried in an overly dumb voice. Backstage,   
Hermione and Draco alike banged their heads against the marble pillars that supported the hall.   
Dean stuck his head out from behind the curtain, smiling sheepishly. "So, the dude says, "STOP   
THIS HOUSE QUARRLING, PEASANTS! GO HOME NOW!" and they do," he translated. The chariot took off,   
Goyle pondering over a plastic skull Hermione knew he had gotten off of Snape's skeletal figure of   
the human body. Boy hadn't the Head of Houses done a great job choosing the parts for people.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Like? Dislike? Absolutely hate? . Please, review.   
I know most of my facts on Romeo and Juliet, having just finished a final from December on the   
damn unit. God, I hate English. Anything that has been left out of the story that was in the   
original play, or any bit that has been added to the story that wasn't in the play is my own doing.   
I love godplaying through writing... heh heh heh 


	2. Oh Ye Mooses

Wow! Thanks for all of you who reviewed for chapter one, even if there were so many typos in the summary... ^^v Have fun, kiddies, and enjoy the ride! Refer to the first bit for what I do and don't own... Or... what I don't own... ^^v ALSO!!!!! We thank sparknotes.com GREATLY for the help of quotes!  
~Achi-chan  
  
  
NOTE: I'll be hopping around in this chapter, most likely leaving a non-important scene out, or not using the same purpose in the scene present that Shakespeare had in mind. *Shrugs* It's all good, as my stand partner for All-County would say... ^^v  
  
  
NOTE TWO: I noticed my folly before I started. With the "do you raise your middle finger at me?" I have it all wrong. Mercrutio is supposed to be on Romeo's side. And Romeo's a Slytherin. I have the Slytherin raising the finger and my Mercrutio going after the Slytherin. Which means Seamus was attacking HIS side. Kim's thoughts? Hehe... my bad. Scratch that bit, would ya?  
  
  
Shakespeare's Mistake  
rated: PG-13 for Ferret Junior's runaway mouth  
Part Two: Oh Ye Mooses  
  
Draco grudgingly hobbled out onto the stage, one of the main acts just finished. Seamus and Justin joined, neither overly-exuberant to be seen in tights and a 'dress,' as Ron (and the rest of the male cast) had nicknamed 'the tunic'. Seamus messed around with his sword, Draco glaring at the Hufflepuffian and the Gryffindorian. "If either of you make me look stupid in the least bit, you're my first two targets for when the school crumbles and the Dark Lord takes over," he hissed, the curtains rising.

  
Justin swallowed quite loudly, and Seamus coughed. He'd like to see the snotty bastard get within FEET of him.  


  
A hush fell over the crowd as the girls leaned forward in their seats, their vision upon the Ferret Junior in tights. "Wow. He does have nice... attributes," Ginny giggled to a random sixth-year friend. Both girls laughed, and turned their attention to the stage.

  
"Dude, Snape's worried about you," Justin stated to the audience, turned away from Draco so his back was facing Draco. 

  
"Screw the old biddy," was the snide reply. Such a wonderful entrance, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes. The bastard always had to over-do himself.

  
Seamus coughed, abiding by the script Hermione had helped the cast form; Draco was obviously doing his own little thing. "He's worried about you, ~CUZ~" he stated, emphasizing the 'cuz' bit. Ahh, the wonders of Shakespearian slang. 

  
Draco scoffed. "You moron. I'm 'Benvolio's' cousin. You're related to the prince," he snorted. Seamus turned slightly red, and looked like he was about to retort, when Justin butt-in.

  
"You've been moping around Hogwarts all week. Your dad's in a frenzy because you haven't owled him recently, but he could care less, we guess, as long as you don't interact with mudbloods and muggles, but your mom's worried," Justin said between clenched teeth.

  
Draco snorted, eyes scanning the crowd. "That's rich, coming from you, Non-pureblood," he replied. Seamus lunged for Draco's neck, but Justin stopped him.

  
"Can we get the damn scene over without killing each other OR breaking the seventh wall?" Justin wanted to know.

  
"It's the fifth wall, dear" Hermione whispered off-stage. Justin blushed slightly at Hermione's near lack-of-shirt. Damn corset.

  
Draco sighed. "I'vefalleninlovewiththisgirlwhodoesn'tlovemeandIthinkshe'sofftoanunnery. WoeismeIhatemylife,she'smyonlylove... Thankyou" he finished, bowing his way off stage.  


"Therearepleantyoffishinthesea,don'tstickwiththisone, Thankyou," Seamus finished, bowing off as well. Hermione rubbed her temples, sighing. Oh ye gods this would be long.   


  
Lavendar adjusted the teacher's robes and wig Hermione had gotten to stick to her head. "Remind me why I'm doing this?" she spat, glaring at the Head Girl.

  
"McGonagall refused to get involved, and we needed a Head of House. You ought to see Blaise Zabini as Snape... he's rather amusing, because we couldn't get his hair greasy enough. We ended up using candle wax for a desired effect, and people keep on trying to light him on fire. Now get out there," Hermione stated, pushing the girl out. Lavendar stumbled on stage, greeted by everyone eyes. 

  
Sending Hermione one last glare, she turned to Ron, the 'Paris' of the stage. "What did you want, Weasley?" Lavendar asked in her best McGonagall accent. The real Gryffindor Head of House glared at the girl who was portraying her.

  
"I was thinking about... well, you know... having another Hogsmeade weekend to, well, you know 'hook' up with Hermione," he stated casually. Or, as casually as a guy and panty-hose could say. Lavender snorted.

  
"Aren't you both a bit young for that?" Lavender asked, her accent strangely accurate.

  
Ron shrugged. "She's a seventh year, I'm a seventh year... the attraction's all there, I suppose. Come on..." he begged, giving Lavender his sexy puppy-dog look.

  
Forgetting where she was (and mainly, what she was DOING), Lavender looked to the ground, shifting back and forth on her feet and fluttering her eyelashes. "I guess I can like, you know, start a party for Granger to meet you, and all, but if that doesn't work out, you know I'm always around," she giggled, only half of the McGonagall accent left. Ron gave her a horrified look, and she giggled again, as Neville bumbled onto stage. "Longbottom, take this note," she fished a note out of her pockets, "to the people listed on the list for invites. Have them all come, but don't you dare invite people not on the list. Come, Ron... I bet we have ~better~ things we could be doing in the meantime," Lavender finished, giggling evilly and pulling Ron off stage, as Hermione made a cameo appearance by sulking across stage, Pansy just as sulkingly following her across as well.

  
Neville stared stupidly at the note, as Draco, Seamus, and Justin sauntered on stage, Justin in the middle of the trio, keeping Seamus from jumping at Draco's throat. Neville gulped, cleared his throat, and stated clearly his sonnet Hermione had written. Draco's had been just the taddest bit violent, and she had doubted the real McGonagall would have been too happy, hearing about the violation done to her body and (in grotesque detail) how her head had been ripped off and tossed to- Hermione didn't want to even think about it.  
  
"My master has given me this here note  
With names in gold ink upon its substance,  
But I clearly have found that she has wrote;  
Pushing me out with no more lost nonsense...  
  
Tragedy has fallen upon my hands  
What am I to do? I am very lost  
Am I to travel all the distant lands?  
Merlin's Balls, how much that would indeed cost  
  
She did not ask me if I was in need  
She gave me a note, but I cannot read!"  
  
Neville took a bow to the audience, applause filling the room. Hermione grinned in proud respect, and Draco snatched the note from Neville's hands. "A ball, eh?" he spat at the Gryffindor boy. "~SHE~ is to be present. I shall attend. Come, 'Benvolio,' 'Mercrutio," he spat, pushing the three off stage.   


  
Hermione rolled her eyes, and quickly set at work, handing out masks to backstage members. "Listen. We all remember what happens. Seamus goes on a rant about Mab and other such thinks as y'all listen to him, then it switches to the ballroom scene, which means," Hermione gulped, "I've gotta change out of this damn corset into ANOTHER one..." she muttered, sulking off much to the cast members' amusement. Mainly Draco's, but still...  


  
Draco, being dragged on stage by fellow cast members (mainly Justin, who was, at all costs, tyring to avoid conflict by separating Seamus from the Slytherin), sulked. His costume had changed. He no longer wore silver and blue nylons. He now wore navy blue and gray nylons. And a skirt. No matter how long Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati and lectured him, he refused to give them the pleasure of knowing he knew it wasn't a 'skirt,' and that it was correctly called a 'tunic.' Weasley had pulled his smart move of the year in nicknaming it such. 

  
"So, I'm supposed to preach about a story, with Queen Mab being our ultimate ruler. But instead, my mooses-" Seamus paused as he heard a loud crash behind stage. Behind the curtain, Hermione banged her head against the changing room door. 

  
"Mooses. Out of ALL the people I know, he's the one to screw my work up and refer the the 'muses' as 'mooses.' Could McGonagall have picked a more stupid Mercrutio?" she muttered to herself.

  
Back on stage, Seamus shrugged, and continued his story.

  
"You see, my mooses as not only winged and greenish-blue, but my mooses sit on my shoulder, whispering bits and pieces of nonsense (and the future) into my ear. So far, my mooses told me this wonderful little story. It starts with this guy, who falls in love with this girl, but technically, they can't marry because they come from two different families. So, they get married secretly, and only the girl's nurse and the monk who married them knew. So, the girl's cousin kills the guy's best friend, and the guy kills the cousin, and the supreme ruler finds out and banishes the guy. So, the girl fakes death, but the guy doesn't know it's fake, so, as my mooses tell me now, the guy comes back and kills the girl's betrothed guy and kills himself. The girl wakes up from her fake death, sees him dead, kills herself, and the families make up and become good friends, making statues of one another and such on," Seamus nodded. 

  
"Interesting mooses you have there, Finnegan," one of the Slytherins commented from the crowd. "Do they have accompanying flying squirrels as well?"

  
The muggle-related part of the audience burst into laughter, as the wizarding families looked around in confusion. Seamus seemed not only confused, but irked as well.

  
"Don't make fun of my mooses, jackass! I'd like to see you come up here and talk to the mooses," Seamus snarled, giving the Slytherin the two-fingered salute.

  
Justin, having left his watchful eye on Draco, to keep him from jumping Seamus, now held to Seamus's tunic as several Gryffindor girls held down the angered Slytherin. Hermione, from a wing, was ready to cry. Merlin's Balls, why did she have to work with the lot of idiots handed into her hands?

  
Bored, Draco cleared his throat. "Nobody cares about your mooses, Finnegan. Just hurry up and lead us into the ballroom. The faster I have this over, the faster I can start erasing the memories of the student body," Draco snorted, looking at his nails closely. 

  
With that came the fall of a curtain and the end of a scene. Hermione quickly fussed with her outfit, attempting to pull up the bodice (which did absolutely no good), and quickly rushed those in her year onto the set. "Behave and stick to the plot if you know what's good for you. I can get away with hexxing the lot of you to Abu Dhabi if I have to," she hissed as the curtain rose.

  
Draco, placed at one end of the set snorted in character. Or, in his case, he just snorted, and it appeared to be in character. "Look. It's the love of my life," he stated rather sarcastically, pointing out 'Rosalyn', as Parvati had been nicknamed. Seamus snickered.

  
"It would be your luck to fall in love with somebody who's going off to a convent," he laughed. Draco raised an eyebrow.

  
"You think they'd still accept her after what we've done in the Astronomy Tower?" he pondered. From across the stage, Parvati was restrained by Hermione and Hannah, who had wondered on set to... restrain Parvati.

  
"Lemme at him. He promised to never tell anybody about that if I promised to not tell anybody that he has the endowedness of a ferret," she snarled.

  
"Well, now we're even, aren't we?" he asked, blushing slightly. 

  
"So. Finding any girls you like?" Justin wanted to know, changing the subject back to the play at hand. 

  
"No. They're all Gryffindor tramps," Draco replied.

  
As if the words "Abra kadabra peanut-butter sandwiches" had been spoken, Draco blinked to find himself on a plushie pink, heart-shaped stool in the middle of the stage, the backdrop changing to reds and pinks of hearts.

"Welcome to The Dating Game! I'm Dean Thomas and with me is Hannah Abbot and we'll be your cupids for today!" a voice bellowed out of nowhere. Dean appeared off the the side, along with Hannah who had passed her job of restraining Parvati off to Padma.

  
"With us is Draco Malfoy, the lucky bachelor, and we'll be meeting our three lucky bachelorettes right now!" Hannah exclaimed, pointing to a shadowed off area to center-stage-right.

  
"With us, for bachelorette number one, we have Pansy Parkinson," Dean exclaimed, as a third of the shadowed-off area became lit.

  
"Pansy is a lovely lady from Parkinson manner. Her parents are not only pure-blooded, but rich and evil. She enjoys tequillas, singing in the shower, and secretly sneaking into the Head Boys dormitories to rub her face against Draco Malfoy's clean boxers," Dean commented. Pansy blushed slightly, dressed in her Nurse-Maid's attire. Draco made a face.

  
"Next, we have bachelorette number two!" Hannah cried out, as the shadow next to Pansy became lit. "Meet Hermione Anne Granger, our Hogwarts Head Girl. Being muggle-born, her parents are well-paid dentists. Hermione enjoys spending time with her two friends, Ron and Harry, sitting down next to the common room fire to read a good book, and getting hopelessly drunk off of Fire whiskey to 'see what happens'," Hannah introduced. Hermione had a smug look on her face.

  
"What? You thought I enjoyed sniffing your undies too?" she asked Draco, whose left eyebrow nearly reached his hairline.

  
"Finally, with us we have bachelorette number three," Dean sniggered, as the lighting lit up to a sponge. "This is a sponge. It has no parents. It enjoys scrubbing at dried-on gunk and plopping into a bath of warm water for some soapy, frothy fun," Hannah stated with a straight face. She had taken over for Dean, who had to duck behind his hand to laugh.

  
"Which one will it be? Bachelorette number one, two, or three?" Dean wanted to know. Various shouts of numbers came from the audience and the members of the cast. 

  
Professor McGonagall cast a wary glare in Dumbledore's direction as he cried out, "Number three!"

  
"Given the circumstances? I pick number three. The sponge," Draco replied.

  
"You have it, ladies and gents! He chooses Hermione Granger!" Hannah yelled out. The set returned to normal, leaving Draco with his mouth gaping.

  
"I chose the sponge, dammit! Gimme my sponge! I want some wet, frothy fun, not an Alcoholic!" he yelled out.  


Hermione snorted from across the stage. "Quit trying to change the plot and just get this on with," she replied.  


Mumbling under his breath, Draco trudged to where Hermione was, grabbed her, and forced her to begin ballroom dancing with him. "I suppose I'd be evil to ask for a kiss?" he wanted to know.

  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Do it and I'll have you castrated so fast that your balls won't know what hit them until they smack the fl-" she snarled. Draco grinned.

  
'Plot? What plot?' he wanted to know, bending her in a dip and placing his lips firmly enough on her own to keep her from finishing her comment on how his testes were to bounce on the floor.

  
Releasing her from the kiss so suddenly that she landed on her behind, Draco smirked and joined Justin and Seamus. "Let me guess. I just 'fell for' an archrival, huh?" he wanted to know.   


Justin shrugged. "Pretty accurate. Let's get out of here before McGonagall has kittens," Justin replied. 

  
On the other side of the stage, Hermione was speaking to her 'Nurse,' a very DISGRUNTLED Pansy. "Who was that?" she wanted to know.

  
Pansy glared at Hermione. "Draco Malfoy, in the sexily-evil flesh. Kiss him again and I'll have your head," she warned. Hermione snorted. 

  
"HE kissed me, might I remind you. I'm off to bed. Go shag a horse," Hermione replied, hopping off-stage.   
In the audience, Ginny was snickering to herself as she counted off money. She owed Pansy four galleons for not going after Hermione when Draco snogged her and she owed Draco six galleons for snogging Hermione. This play was going to be a bit more fun than she thought...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
SOOOOO sorry it took me this long to get this to you guys. I wasn't even planning on finishing it, but I had over 20 replies with people telling me to "add another chapter NOW" and... welll... >! Sorry it's not as funny as the last one. It was written on a caffeine-high. All hail the pepsi gods. Kudos to Romantic_Fool who has been updating her awesomely awesome story and even more kudos to any author writing Snape/Hermiones... because they're fun. If you've got time, drop by my livejoural... www.livejournal.com/users/fangirlwithak/ and check out my buddyicons... Anime fans? Say wot? ^_^!


	3. Put On A Shirt or Bring Me My Sponge

Disclaimer: Wow... writing block etait finir pour.... un jour? *grins* I started writing again. I was inspired by some of my previous work (and many reviews by this fic).   
  
Actually, I saw I haven't touched it in a year, and decided, "What the hell"...  
  
I'll try my best to keep it enjoyable, folks!  
-Achi-chan  
  
PS: Go read my newest fic, Draco-fans! "Melodrama At Its Finest" has a slow first chapter, but gets much better.... later on, at least ^_^  
  
EDIT: I'm finding I got the parts wrong. I had Goyle casted as Friar What'sit, but he then appeared as the prince. So there will be an edit. Crabbe is the friar. Goyle is the prince. Capiche?  
  
Shakespeare's Mistake  
Chapter... three?: Put On A Shirt or Bring Me My Sponge  
  
  
Everybody stood in place for the next act. Everybody but Hermione, who could not be found. Harry looked around behind stage with a nervous twitter. "Where the hell could she have gone?" he asked himself. To his relief, Ginny appeared out of nowhere, having been pulled out of the audience to assist in finding the Head Girl.   
  
"Found her. She's in the her room, sanitizing her mouth. She says she felt too much tongue for comfort. And that for the record, a good kisser Malfoy might be, but she still felt dirty. Something along the lines of tonsil hockey and losing terribly."  
  
"Well... when is she going to show up?" Harry wanted to know, nervously pulling down his tunic. Ginny's eyes didn't seem to want to move above his belt.   
  
"What?" she asked distractedly. "Oh, right. She says she'll be back as soon as she feels clean again. This was after brushing her teeth three times with that toothpaste that makes my eyes water," was the distracted reply.  
  
Harry was, by that time, a bright crimson. "What the hell are we supposed to do about Juliet, then? And will you please look at my head, not my balls?"  
  
"I am!" she giggled evilly, before adding, "and get creative," throwing him an 'I'm not amused look' before waltzing off.  
  
Draco poked his head behind the backdrop with an angry air. "Where the hell is Granger?" he wanted to know. "And why are you so red? You look like somebody suggested you snog Snape for a galleon. AND agreed."  
  
Harry quickly muttered something under his breath that Draco didn't catch, before stating louder, "Just get back on stage, okay? We'll figure something out. She's still disinfecting her mouth from that kiss you gave her. Said she nearly choked on your tongue."  
  
Draco left with an even smirk over his pale features.  
--------  
  
By this time, Seamus was clearly fed up. The whole play (all half-an-hour that had been not-so-smoothly run so far), he'd been mocked, kicked, punched, ridiculed, and just plain made fun of. He was ready for his character to just die off already, and didn't care who knew. And now that Hermione, Head Girl herself, had been able to skive off under the status "Trying To Become Clean Once More," he wondered what was the point?  
  
"I quit," he muttered, loud enough for Draco and Justin to hear.  
  
"My arse you aren't!" Draco screeched. At the teacher's table, Snape winced. So much for making a 'man' out of the Malfoy child. If he was still able to reach decibels that high without getting groped or castrated, there would be no hope for the boy.   
  
"You get to die half-way THROUGH this bloody play! I can't die until AFTER I get married and AFTER I kill Tybalt and AFTER I kill Paris and AFTER Juliet dies! You can't quit until you're dead, and unless you want it to be a not-so-fun unnatural occurrence, you are staying RIGHT. THERE." Draco yelled.  
  
Around the room, groans and yells were heard. Behind stage, Harry (who had temporarily taken up Hermione's position of director and stage manager) sighed. So much for keeping the ending a secret.  
  
"Actually, mate, she dies AFTER you do. She sees you stabbed yourself and then goes to stab herself. By that point, both parental units have come back just in time to see Paris, you, and her dead," Justin butted-in. He ducked just in time as a chicken was not-so-ceremoniously thrown in his direction.   
  
"Wow. You guys are getting creative. Whose chicken was that?" Ron wanted to know from behind a pillar.  
  
"Mine," a sixth-year Ravenclaw remarked. "Can I have it back? Mum and Dad'll kill me if they find out what happened to my brother," she wanted to know.  
  
Harry sighed, and turned to where the make-shift Hermione had been placed. It would do for now.   
  
-------  
  
Draco glared at the wall separating him from the famous "balcony scene".   
  
"You know, my script says I'm supposed to leap over this wall. But 'leaping' sounds like something a bloody fairy-boy would do. Can't Potter leap over the wall for me?" he asked Hannah from the sidelines.   
  
She shook her head. "Just do it already, Malfoy. One jump and you can listen to the infamous Juliet soliloquy and you two confess your love and it's over."  
  
"I refuse to leap."  
  
"Then just climb up the wall, get to the top, and jump back down!" she urged.  
  
As he began to follow her order, he stopped on top of the wall. "You know, now that I think about it, this jump is a long way down. Can I have a footstool or a ladder?" he now asked.  
  
"We don't HAVE a footstool or a ladder, Malfoy! Stop being such a sissy!" Harry hissed from behind stage.  
  
Draco sat down, cross-legged, on the wall. "Then I simply refuse to get down from my seat," was his simply reply.  
  
  
Fifteen minutes and an angry Ron later, Draco stood on the other side of the wall with a triumphant smirk. "I'd like to dedicate Juliet's soliloquy to Weasley, the ever dependant footstool," he announced to the audience while Justin and Harry held Ron back from doing anything stupid to their main male character.   
  
Near the balcony, there was a commotion, and Draco looked over. And nearly had his eyes lodged in the back of his skull from the massive eye-roll he performed.  
  
Instead of Granger, the Ever-Dependant Head Girl, stood... a mop. Granted, it was a mop in a corset, complete with moving arms, bushy hair, and a head (thanks to the conveniently-placed bucket on top), but it was lacking something. Perhaps cleavage, Draco mused with dismay. Granger might be muggle-born, but cleavage she had aplenty. At least, when wearing a corset.   
  
A voice, the speaker hidden by the balcony's edge, began to speak. "Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou Romeo? Why the HELL do you have to be so egotistical? So pureblooded? So conniving and evil and sick and twisted and... OW! HEY! What the HELL? Why'd you do THAT? I was only speaking the truth!" The puppet had now turned accusingly to a person behind stage and was bouncing violently, as if it itself was a human being. Finnegan, Malfoy concluded. He recognized that stupidity anywhere. Didn't do a very good job at playing a chick, but he had Granger down to the last period. Although, perhaps her vocabulary would have been a bit more original. Evil was an over-rated term.  
  
"Stick to the scrip, Seamus. If they're smart, they already realize he's a jackass," Potter snapped. Draco cleared his throat. The puppet turned back to Malfoy.   
  
"Oh. Right. Why is my Romeo a Slytherin? Me of the Gryffindor house, he of the Slytherin. Me, muggle-born to dentists. He, pure-born to pig- OW" The puppet turned back, accusingly, to where Potter hid behind stage. "I get the point! Stop jabbing me!"  
  
The Juliet-puppet continued, now turning out to the audience. "If only we could be accepted, to be loved, to be LOVERS!" There was a dramatic pause. It was all the time needed for Malfoy to but in before Seamus could make more of an arse out of himself.  
  
"That's right. You're the Gryffindor-broad I fell in love with. Let's elope. You, me, a bottle of Champaign. Maybe a few more hallucinogenics to top it all off. What do you say?" he wanted to know.  
  
"Eat me!" the puppet replied. This time, Draco heard the kick Potter delivered to Finnegan.  
  
"I mean, sure. What the hell. We're both young. If need be, there's always divorce! AND I know thirty-five different ways to murder you in your sleep!" the puppet retorted.  
  
"Only?" Draco wanted to know.   
  
There was a uncomfortable pause, while Potter poked his head out from behind stage. "The kiss?" he nagged.  
  
"Oh. Right." Draco walked up to the puppet, stared disdainly at it for a moment, and kissed it on it's badly-drawn mouth. It swooned before falling. Draco did nothing but roll his eyes. What was it with him and women and kissing?  
  
--------  
  
Hermione winced as she walked back into the great hall. Fifteen minutes with a toothbrush left her gums feeling like they were ready to fall off and murder her with the mouthwash bottle. "What's up?" she asked Harry as Draco appeared from the stage.   
  
"Malfoy just informed Crabbe of your marriage. You're due on stage now in your wedding dre-" Harry trailed off as Hermione stared in disgust at him.  
  
"I'm not getting in that dress," she stated.  
  
"Come on, Mia. It's one scene in that dress. Then, you can burn it and rip it and pillage it an-"  
  
"Harry James Potter, if you force me into that dress, I'll see to it that something soft and squishy finds its way into your bed. For the next month," Hermione warned.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Fine with me."  
  
------  
  
Hermione felt as if her arms were to be permanently glued to her chest. If she thought the necklines of her previous dresses were low, than this one seemed to be hanging to the ground. "What if my bits pop out?" she asked Parvati angrily. "What then?"   
  
"Then there will be interesting blackmail of you for the next century. Now get out there! Malfoy and Goyle are waiting, and Ferret-Boy's threatening to take his fury out on the first years if you don't put a move on it!" Parvati debated back, pushing Hermione out on stage.  
  
Stumbling, Hermione's arms impulsively reached out in order to hold on to something stable, and found herself chest-first with Malfoy. "Geez, Granger. If you wanted me THAT badly, I'm sure we could have waited until this damn play was over," he smirked, eyes attached to her chest. Back to the 'cleavage aplenty in a corset' thoughts. Amen to crotch-cups!  
  
Resisting the urge to slap him, Hermione growled under her breath and turned to Crabbe. "Tell me you remember your lines," she spat.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Then say them."  
  
"We are gathered here to marry this couple. Do you, Pureblood, swear to marry this muggle-born and to keep her safe from the wrath of your parents when they find out you married a mudblood, now and ever?" he asked. It had been Malfoy's influence, not her own, Hermione mused. The two had come across a deal. He would write where it concerned Romeo. She would write where it concerned everybody else.  
  
"Why not. What have I got to lose but EVERYTHING?" he wanted to know.  
  
"And do you, non-pureblood, swear to protect this man from his father when Lucius finds out he married one of Potter's friends? To keep him from being red-specks on the newly furnished carpet? To keep Snape from curdling his brains? To keep McGonagall from curdling his innards? To keep Pansy from castrating his bits with a cheese grader? To-" Crabbe was interrupted.  
  
"_She does," _Malfoy snarled, turning to Hermione. NOBODY would upstage a Malfoy.  
  
"I now pronounce you Deadman and wife. You may kiss the girl," Crabbe exclaimed.  
  
Hermione stepped back from Malfoy's feral grin. "You know, I'm having second thoughts about this whole thing. How about we shake hands and call it quits?" she wanted to know, mind racing.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Sure, why not?" he asked, extending his hand.  
  
Surprised, Hermione extended her own, but in mid-shake, Malfoy took advantage of her state, pulled her in, and kissed her soundly on the lips.  
  
Pulling away, he smirked. "You know, Granger, you wear a corset more often and you'd get a lot more action," he speculated.  
  
Lost without anything to say, Hermione stomped down on his right foot and stormed off stage.   
  
-------  
  
Pansy grumbled.   
  
Actually, Pansy did more than grumble as she pushed a ladder up to Hermione's balcony.   
  
"I don't believe it!" she screeched, anger seeping from every pore.  
  
"Twice! He kissed that STUPID know-it-all TWICE! And now, I'm bloody supplying the ladder to her window so they can have a bloody wedding night!" she ranted, her face red from anger.  
  
Draco appeared and patted her on the arm in reassurance. "Don't worry, Pansy-darling. Granger's got a decent head on her shoulders. She knows I wouldn't think twice about touching her, if it weren't for this play."  
  
Granger's head popped up from over the balcony. "Or so he says, while thinking about my cleavage," she snarled, eyes flashing in fury.  
  
He shrugged to Pansy. "I'm a guy. What am I supposed to do?" he wanted to know.  
  
"You were SUPPOSED to let me design my OWN costumes!" she screeched.  
  
"We need to keep the male audience's attention SOMEHOW, Granger! A bit of TNA is needed for this type of play! Shakespeare would have wanted it!" he urged.  
  
"TNA?" Ginny asked from the audience.  
  
"Tits 'n ass," he supplied, grinning evilly.  
  
"Harry's arse he would have!" Hermione yelled, remarking on Draco's comment about Shakespeare. "He would have realized his mistake in making this play and would have destroyed all copies of it before now!"  
  
"What some people think is Shakespeare's mistake could be Shakespeare's glory," Seamus yelled from offstage.  
  
"We could have done Hamlet," Hannah suggested as Draco started climbing up the ladder.  
  
"Believe me," Hermione snarled as Draco threw one leg over her balcony. "I would have MUCH preferred drowning as what's-her-face than marrying him as Juliet."  
  
Draco grinned. "But didn't she sleep with Hamlet, anyway?" he wanted to know. Hermione let out an anguished shriek and stormed off, insinuating the "Honeymoon" would be spent with Romeo on the couch.

AN: I am SOOOO sorry, public! I didn't even consider continuing with this story until I saw all the reviews. Then, I thought, "What the hell?"

Sorry that this chapter was slightly more risqué than any other chapter up so far. I came the the conclusion that, while Shakespeare used many a sexual-puns, then so shall I! I just gave more character to the characters. Still not owning Harry Potter characters. However, my birthday comes up in February 26th, and I wait in hopes that I'll get the rights to Harry Potter as a present. Or, if not all of it, just Snape, Lucius, and Draco. Why do I have a feeling that I will be greatly disappointed?

And for the record, I'd like to direct Snape/Hermione fans over to www.lordandladysnape.net, as it is an AMAZING Snape/Hermione fanfiction archive. Go there. You know you want to.

Until next time, then!

-Achi-chan, the artist formerly known as Kim, or That Girl


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